


Love You to Pieces

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-22 20:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets doused with some sort of chemical in one of Schmidt's labs and it brings out some of his darker desires.  Howard is the one who suffers the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So you've probably noticed that I haven't posted anything lately. I've been sort of having a dry spell. I'm hoping to struggle my way through it this weekend by posting this WIP. This very, very dark, very screwed up WIP.

Howard poked at the hash on his tray, and with a grimace, dropped his fork and pushed the food away in disgust. He should have gone out to eat instead, but he hadn't wanted to be far from his lab; there were some experiments he was running. He rubbed his face and sighed.

"What's wrong?" asked Peggy, as she dropped her tray on the table and pulled up a chair.

"Just tired. And hungry." He gestured to his tray. "I wouldn't bother if I were you. It's practically inedible."

Peggy rolled her eyes and ate a forkful of hash. "It's fine. Your problem, Howard—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Silver spoon." He made a careless gesture because he'd heard it a million times. And it wasn't even true. No, his family had never been dirt poor, but up until Howard and his father had founded Stark industries eight years ago, they hadn't been rich either. "So I hear Steve's in the infirmary." 

"Yes, he came into contact with some foreign substance in that last raid. The medical staff felt it was best if they kept him under observation for a few days, just in case. After all, who knows what nasty experiments Schmidt's been conducting?" 

"But he's all right? He's not showing any adverse symptoms?"

"None that the doctors have noticed. I'm going to visit him after dinner if you'd like to tag along. I know he's bored."

And wouldn't that be an awkward visit. He could just imagine it now; standing in the room trying to make small talk while Steve and Peggy flirted with one another. Badly, in Steve's case; not that Steve didn’t have his own graceless charm. But no, no, he… he couldn't. "I've got a few experiments I need to keep a close eye on, so I'm afraid not. Actually, I should probably head back." He got to his feet, then hesitated. "Tell Steve that when he gets out, he should pay me a visit. I have a few new toys he might like." 

Peggy nodded and gestured at him with her fork.

*****

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, as Bucky sauntered into the lab. It was late, really late, and as always he was the only one still working. 

Bucky crowded Howard up against the worktable and smirked. "Peggy mentioned that you had some new toys for us."

"For Rogers, not you, Barnes." Howard leaned as far back as he could with the edge of the table pressing against his back. "Wanna give me some space?"

"It depends." Bucky gripped Howard's tie and tugged. "Do you want some space?"

Howard considered the not-so-subtle offer. Bucky was a nice guy, a really nice guy, and they'd helped each other out a few times—okay, so more than a few times—but… "How's Steve?"

Bucky sighed, let go of Howard's tie, and took a few steps back. "Bored. He asked after you."

He cleared his throat and looked away as he flushed with pleasure. "He probably needs more stimulation." 

"And you sure would like to help him out there, wouldn't you?" Bucky snickered.

Howard glared at Bucky, his face growing hot. "I meant mental stimulation." 

"Sure you did."

"Why are you in my lab again?" Howard crossed his arms over his chest.

Bucky rocked on the balls of his feet, looking like a little boy on Christmas day. "I wanted to see if you'd give me a chance to see the new toys you've made us." 

Howard sighed. "Fine. Come here. Let me show you a few of the prototypes." 

*****

He liked working at night. It was quiet and he didn't have to vie for space; he could spread out and really concentrate on what he was doing. He also didn’t have to worry about visitors disturbing him while he was in the middle of calculations or testing some new weapon. 

Still, when Steve walked into the lab, Howard couldn’t help but feel pleased. He scrambled to his feet, a smile on his face. "Steve," he said, "I didn't know you were out of the infirmary. I'm glad that—" The rest of the sentence was cut off when Steve stalked over, swept the table clear with his arm, and practically shoved Howard onto the table. "What—"

Steve pinned him to the table, hands tight around his wrists, and kissed him hard. 

Howard's eyes widened and he let out a gasp, which gave Steve an opportunity to shove a tongue into his mouth. "Mmm!" He wiggled against Steve, trying to jerk his hands free. 

Steve just gripped him tighter and damn if that didn't hurt. He hummed softly, tongue exploring Howard's mouth lazily, like he had all the time in the world. 

Howard wanted to close his eyes and melt into the kiss. He wanted to pretend that there wasn’t something horribly wrong with this scenario. He wanted to pretend that Steve really did want to… to… ravage Howard. But he wasn't that delusional. He jerked and wiggled and did his best to get away and when that didn't work he bit Steve's tongue, hard enough to draw blood.

Steve jerked his head back, cursing softly. He was flushed and breathing hard—that wasn't the only thing that was hard, Howard could feel Steve's erection—and his pupils were dilated. 

"Steve, what the hell are you doing? Let me go!" His voice shook slightly and he arched up, trying to throw Steve off, but Steve just moaned and ground against him. His breath hitched in his throat and his cock throbbed. "Steve!"

"Howard," he said, voice raspy. He licked Howard's mouth and let out a helpless whine. "God, Howard, you taste so good. You smell… You smell like you need to be fucked." 

Steve rutted against Howard and fuck, oh, fuck. Howard's hips rose because his cock was hard and he'd wanted this for ages.

"Yeah, yeah, Howard. I'm going to fuck you raw. I'm going to—" Steve sucked hard on his neck until it hurt. 

"No," he said and it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to say. "No, you can't. We can't. Steve, stop. Steve! It's the drug. It's… it has to be the substance you breathed in at Schmidt's lab. Steve, dammit, stop!" But Steve didn’t stop and fear twisted low in Howard's gut.

"So good, Howard, so good," Steve whispered, mouthing the skin of Howard's neck and pulling Howard's hands up over his head. "Shh, don’t be afraid. I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you." 

"Then stop. Steve, if you don’t want to hurt me, stop! Please, God, please, stop. Don’t do this. You're not this person!" He struggled, yanking his arms, trying to draw his knee up, doing his best to buck Steve off him. But Steve was like a brick wall. Howard's eyes stung and he squeezed them closed.

"Shhh." Steve pressed gentle kisses against Howard's eyelids, then gripped both of Howard's wrists in one hand. "This will be so good for you, Howard. I'll make it good. I need you. You make me need you."

Howard shook his head and bit his bottom lip. He felt sick and shaky and it wasn't supposed to be this way. It… Steve unbuttoned Howard's trousers and worked them, and his underwear, down to his upper thighs. "This isn't you. Steve, this isn't who you are. Please, stop. I'll do anything you want, just stop." 

Steve hummed and gripped Howard's cock—he was hard, how was he still hard? What kind of kind of man took pleasure in being— Steve stroked his cock, slow and steady, rubbing the head until Howard was wet and jerking his hips. "See, Howard?" Steve rubbed wet fingers against Howard's mouth. "See how much you want it?"

Howard turned his head and did *not* lick his lips. 

Steve made a sound of consternation and resumed his exploration, cupping Howard's balls, squeezing them, then sliding his fingers behind them to stoke Howard's hole.

"No! No!" His eyes flew open. He wasn't going to let Steve do that. He wasn't going to be—No! He pressed his thighs together.

Steve's mouth tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Howard—" Then the door opened and his head jerked up.

Howard let out a small gasp and looked over at the door. Doctor Brandon stood in the doorway, eyes wide, his face a bright red. "Get help! Brandon, get Phillips. Get--" 

Steve covered Howard's mouth with his hand and growled. "Get. Out."

Brandon squeaked and fled. Howard could only hope that Brandon was going to get help; he let out a sob.

"No," Steve crooned. "Don't cry. It's okay." He pulled his hand away and pressed soft kisses against Howard's mouth, murmuring reassurances and endearments. He was seducing Howard, that's what he was doing. But Howard wasn’t going to fall for it because this wasn’t what Steve wanted. Not really.

"Let me go," he whispered. "Steve, let me go." 

"I can't, Howard. I can't. You're mine and I need you. I love you." Steve gave him a sweet kiss and God, that wasn't fair. Steve wasn’t playing fair. "Don't you love me? Don't you want me? I love you. I love you so much."

It felt like his heart was breaking. Howard let out a quiet sob. "Yes, I… I love you, too. Of course, I love you, too."

"Then let me, Howard. Let me fuck you. I'll make it so good for you." 

Howard shook, he shook so hard he thought he was going to shatter into little pieces. He opened his mouth to say yes, because of course he was going to say yes. In the end he would always say yes, when the door flew open and the room flooded with soldiers.

Steve snarled and his hand tightened painfully around Howard's wrists. 

"Captain Rogers, let Stark go," Phillips said. "Don't make this difficult for everyone."

"He's mine. Only I get to fuck him." Steve began to undo his own trousers.

"Son, no one here wants to do anything to Stark." 

"They do. I can smell it. I can smell how much they want him." Steve was panting harshly. "They can't. He's mine. He belongs to me." 

"Steve." Bucky shouldered his way through the crowd of soldiers, Peggy right behind him. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Stay back, Bucky. You can't have him. And don't lie to me! I can smell you on his skin. I can smell that you've fucked him." 

"Steve," Howard said softly. "Steve, it's okay. I'm yours now. No one can have me but you. I won't let anyone have me but you. But you have to let me g-go now."

Bucky held up his hands and took a step closer.

"Get away!" Steve screamed and Howard whimpered.

"You're hurting him," Peggy said suddenly, shoving Bucky back. "Steve, look at Howard. Look at how you're hurting him."

A look of confusion crossed Steve's face and he glanced at Howard. "I—No, I—" 

"Let me take him to the infirmary." Peggy held out her hand. "Steve, you know me. You know that I don't want Howard. I've never wanted Howard. I promise that if you let me take him to the infirmary, I'll watch over him. I'll make sure no one touches him. I'll shoot anyone who does." 

"He's mine, Peggy. I can smell that he's mine."

"I know. I can see that. And I can see that he's in pain, too. Please, let him go, Steve."

"My wrists hurt," he said and Steve looked stricken. 

"You'll come back to me after? So we can fuck?"

"Yes." He nodded. "I promise."

Steve kissed him, hard, then released his wrists and backed away. 

Howard pulled up his underwear and trousers and scrambled away into Peggy's arms. She led him out into the hallway. He jerked away from her then, leaning against the wall, shuddering. 

"We should get you to the infirmary."

He shook his head. "No, no, I'm all right. He didn't… he didn't… He just groped me and kissed me."

"There's blood on your mouth." 

"I bit him." Howard scrubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I don't need a doctor, but I could use a drink." 

Peggy looked at him reluctantly, then sighed. "All right. I've got a bottle of scotch in my room."

He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"I hope so. Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing a stiff drink and a good night's sleep won't fix." 

She gave him a skeptical look, but didn't call his bluff.

*****

His hand shook slightly when he lifted the drink to his mouth, but Peggy didn't comment on it. He was glad she didn't say anything, He just wanted a drink then, maybe a shower. His body ached and his wrists hurt and tried not to think about the way Steve touched him, the way Steve rubbed his wetness against his mouth, the way Steve said 'I love you' like it meant something. He drained his glass and held it out for more scotch. 

She topped him off with a pained smile. 

"What do you think they'll do to him?" he asked.

"I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whether or not the doctors can determine what's wrong with him. If they can't, they might ship him back stateside or… court-martial him. He did… attack you."

Howard took a large swallow of his drink. "He didn't hurt me. I mean, he had plenty of time to… to… press his advantage and he didn't. That's got to mean something." 

"Maybe." She stared at him. "We should take you to the infirmary."

He shook his head. "No, no, I’m fine."

"You're shaking like a leaf." 

"Exactly." Howard took a deep breath. "You think I don't know what they say about me? What they call me when my back is turned? Do you really think I'm going to let them see me like this? I won't give them that ammunition, Peggy, I won't." 

She sipped her scotch and nodded. "I can understand that." 

He smiled. "I knew if anyone could, it would be you." 

*****

Howard kept tugging on the cuffs of his shirt to hide the dark bruising around his wrists. Everyone kept staring at them, as well as the marks on his neck, because everyone knew. Of course everyone knew—or at least they thought they did. Military men gossiped worse than old ladies at a tea party. 

He didn't care, not a goddamn bit. They could think what they wanted about him. They could say what they wanted. He had a job to do, and he was gonna do it. 

He walked into his lab, head held high, and didn't even flinch when he saw the mess that was his worktable. He spent most of the morning getting it just the way he liked, ignoring the whispered conversations around him. 

He buried himself in his work, let the background noise fade to nothing and the tension ease from his body. It felt good. So damn good.

*****

He didn't know how long he'd been working before he heard the heavy thump of booted feet. He let out a startled gasp, rising from his seat and turning, a screwdriver held tightly in his fist.

"Sir?" The soldier, a young man who couldn't be more than twenty, stood awkwardly at attention. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

Howard let out a shaky breath and set the screwdriver on the table. "You just startled me, soldier. What can I do for you?"

The kid swallowed hard. "Colonel Phillips would like to see you, sir. He's waiting for you in his office."

"Right." He'd been expecting this. He smoothed his shirt and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Lead the way, soldier." 

"Sir." The kid turned on his heel and practically marched out of the room.

Howard smirked at that and followed the kid all the way to Phillips's office. The kid left him at the door and he sauntered in, flopping into a chair. "You wanted to see me, Colonel?" 

Phillips looked up from the files he was reading and leveled an annoyed glare Howard's way. "Yes."

"About?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't visit the infirmary the other night. I wanted to make sure you were all right. Are you all right, Stark?"

"As I've ever been." 

"Hmm." Phillips leaned back in his chair and considered Howard for a moment, then he said, "The doctors haven't been able to find anything wrong with Rogers. Once you left the room, he seemed to come to his senses. You wouldn't happen to know why?" 

Howard's chest tightened, and he fought back the bitter words on his tongue. "No, I wouldn't. I was working alone when he came in. I didn't even expect to see him. I thought he was still under quarantine. They couldn't find any trace of drugs in his system?"

"Oh, no, they did. It just isn't doing anything. He shows no signs of violence towards anyone else. Just you."

He swallowed hard. "It wasn't exactly violence. Do you think that I somehow… provoked the incident, Colonel?" 

"No, not deliberately. And neither does he." 

Howard closed his eyes in relief.

"The doctors want to see if they can duplicate the reaction."

He opened his eyes. "No!"

Phillips nodded. "That's what Captain Rogers said. Even after I told him we'd have to send him home if the doctors weren't allowed to perform their tests."

"Send him home?" Howard stared at Phillips in shock. "You can't do that! He's our only hope to stop Schmidt." 

Phillips shrugged, looking unconcerned. "He's of no use to me if he can't be controlled." 

"Getting sent home will break him, Colonel, you know that." Howard swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. "This is all he ever wanted. This is…"

"You're dismissed, Stark. " Phillips picked up the file he'd been perusing when Howard came in and flipped through it.

Howard knew he was being manipulated, but he realized he couldn't take the chance that Phillips wasn't bluffing. "What if he attacks me again?"

"We'll have guards in the room and he'll be strapped to the bed. He won't touch a hair on your head."

He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's not my hair that I'm worried about."

*****

The made him shower to remove any scent that was not his own from his body. Then they gave him some nondescript clothing to wear, in case color was a trigger—it wasn't, they knew it wasn't, but it was better than going in naked.

He hesitated outside the door to Steve's room, his stomach clenching, his knees going weak with fear and anticipation. He took a deep breath, opened the door, and hurried into the room before he could change his mind. The door snicked shut behind him, and he jumped slightly at the noise.

There were two guards, one on either side of the room, and Howard knew that the large mirror to his left was actually a viewing window. He was safe; they wouldn't let anything happen to him. He wiped his hands on his trousers and looked over at the hospital bed. 

Steve was staring at Howard, arms and legs strapped to the bed, electrodes attached to his body. "I knew you'd come," he said, his voice gravelly, his lips curving in a smile. "I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away, Howard." 

"Of course you knew. They told you." He hovered near the door, his mouth dry.

Steve inhaled deeply. "I can smell you. You don't need to be afraid, Howard. I won't hurt you. I didn't hurt you before, did I?"

"I have bruises," he said, trembling.

"You were hard. Even when you asked me to stop, your cock was hard, dripping because you were so excited. Not even the soldiers barging in made you soft." Steve tilted his head. "You're hard now."

Howard opened his mouth to say he wasn't, but the words caught in his throat because, fuck, he was. 

"I can smell how excited you are, Howard. I can always smell how excited you are when I'm near. Did you know that?"

He shook his head, his face hot.

Steve chuckled. "Always so eager, even when you were fucking my best friend. Does Bucky let you call him Steve? Does he know you want me to bend you over and rut you? Does he know you're nothing but a little bitch in heat?"

"Shut up!" he ground out. He was sweaty and shaking and he wanted to turn and run.

"Come here. Come here, Howard. Let me see how hard you still are. You can see how hard I am."

Howard took a few steps forward before he realized what he was doing and stopped. "Steve, please, fight this. You know you can fight this."

Steve lowered his lashes and looked coyly at Howard. "But Howard," he said, "I'm giving you exactly what you wished for, aren't I? No one wants me as much as you do, not even Peggy. You're so eager for my cock, even now as scared as you are, you're panting for it. Did you think that wouldn’t affect me?"

"It's not my fault," he said, his voice soft and unsure.

"You love me. You're _in_ love with me." Steve licked his lips. "I love you, too, Howard. Come closer. That's right, come closer."

He found himself obeying Steve and he didn't know why. He inched closer to the bed, his knees shaking, his breath coming in sobs.

"Mr. Stark," said one of the guards, startling him enough to make him stop.

Steve growled in frustration. "Come! Here!"

Howard shook his head and stumbled back until he hit the door.

"I'm going to fuck you, Howard," Steve growled. "I'm going to shove inside of you and fuck you until you're dripping with me. When I'm done with you, everyone will know you're mine. When I'm done, you're going to _beg_ me to never leave you."

He fumbled with the doorknob, trying to get it open as Steve assaulted him with words, detailing all the things they were going to do together when Steve got free. Finally, one of the guards took pity on him and opened the door. He stumbled out, eyes stinging, and didn't stop moving until he was safely in his room. He locked the door and pressed his forehead to the cool metal. He needed a shower; he was hot and his clothes clung to his sweaty skin.

He was also painfully, agonizingly hard. He let out a slightly hysterical laugh and shoved a hand down his trousers. It only took a few strokes before he was coming into his hand.

*****

They tried every combination of drugs possible, but every time Howard walked into the room, Steve had the same reaction.

*****

"What are you going to do with him?" Howard asked, his hands clenched into fists.

Phillips just looked at him as if he were an annoyance. "That's really none of your concern, Stark."

"Like hell it isn't!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "After what I went through to try to help, I have a right to know."

Phillips grumbled softly and rolled his eyes. "We're sending him home. Ah!" He raised a hand, cutting off Howard's protest. "He's of no use to us if we can't control him. And he's getting worse, Stark. He's becoming more aggressive, more violent, and his obsession with you is growing."

"And you think sending him home is going to change that?" He paced, his mind racing.

"All I know is that he's becoming a liability. And in warzones, liabilities get a lot of people killed." 

Howard stopped. "So send his men out to find the cure." 

"We have more important things to worry about, Stark." Phillips gestured to the piles of paperwork on his desk. "I have more important things to worry about."

"He's the single most important weapon we have, Colonel. You know it, and I know it!" Howard gripped his hair in frustration; there had to be something the could do to help Steve.

"We've tried everything we could think of," Phillips said, and he sounded tired.

"Not everything," Howard said, his gut churning. He swallowed hard and he fought the urge to break something. "There's one thing we haven't tried." 

"And what's that?"

"We…" He took a deep breath. "We haven't allowed him to indulge his obsession."

Philips gave a bark of laughter. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"No," he snarled, "I damn well wouldn't! But if it… If we send him home, he might just get worse. We can't do that to him. I can't do that to him." 

"You know I can't approve something like this." 

Howard rubbed his mouth with trembling hands. "I'm not asking you to approve it or condone it. I'm asking that you… that you… give me a chance to talk to him, one on one, alone."

Phillips stared at him, brows furrowed, and then gave a slight nod. "The guards change shift about an hour after lights out. Private Moran is always fifteen minutes late. The previous guard tends not to wait for him. It's a terrible breach in regulation that I'll have to deal with tomorrow." 

"Right," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard visits Steve in the infirmary and sets his plan in motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, this story took a turn for the dark. I'm sorry?

Howard's palms were slick with sweat and his heart pounded in his chest as he slipped into Steve's private room in the infirmary. Steve's eyes snapped open as soon as he entered and they stared at each other across the room. Then Steve strained against his bonds. 

"Let me out, Howard," he growled. "Let me out now!"

"Shh!" Howard made his way toward the bed. "I am. But you have to be quiet or the guard will hear you." His hands shook as he unlocked the shackles around Steve's ankles and wrists.

When Steve was free, he sat up, pulled Howard close, and breathed in deeply. "You smell afraid."

Howard drew in a shaky breath and turned his head so he could kiss Steve gently on the mouth. "I'm worried that the guard will come in."

Steve licked Howard's mouth and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. "I can take care of him."

"No," he said quickly, shuddering when Steve pinched his nipples, then rubbed them soothingly. 

"You're mine," Steve murmured against the curve of his neck. "You belong to me." 

Steve's words made him feel dizzy and breathless, they made his cock throb painfully in his trousers. "I know." He lifted his chin, moaning when Steve pressed sharp, sweet kisses along his throat. "I'm yours. You can do whatever you want to me, Steve. You always could."

Steve hummed, then with one swift movement, flipped Howard onto the bed, and pinned him to the mattress. "Beautiful," he said, and leaned down to devour Howard's mouth.

Howard gasped, lips parting, as he let Steve in. The kiss went on and on and on, until his mouth felt swollen and bruised and his body ached for more. Then Steve undressed him, slowly, licking and sucking at every bit of uncovered skin, until he was panting and jerking, cock leaking profusely against his belly.

"Beautiful," Steve said, holding Howard down by the hips and licking up his cock, from root to tip, tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

Howard smothered a cry with the heel of his hand, then spread and lifted his knees to signal his readiness. He'd slicked himself earlier and he was glad; he wanted to be fucked right now, to hell with preparation. 

Steve sat back on his heels and stared down at Howard, head cocked, eyes narrowed in thought. A moment later, he undressed, tossing his clothes on the floor. "Turn around."

Howard nodded, jerkily, and rolled over onto his belly. He lifted his ass in the air, shoving a pillow under his hips, and swallowed hard. "I—I'm ready."

"Hmm." Steve spread his ass and rubbed circles around Howard's asshole.

"You don't have to—You don't—" He let out a choked gasp as Steve pushed his thumb inside of Howard, then slowly withdrew it, only to plunge it back in. 

"I like you ready for me," Steve said, his voice low and raspy. "I like you loose and open. You're a slut ready for my cock. You're a filthy whore."

Howard's face grew hot and he rubbed up against the pillow until Steve slapped his ass. "I love you, Steve. I love you."

"I know." Steve pushed the thumb of his other hand into Howard's ass, then slowly spread him open; he whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. "Love makes you a slave, Howard. Look at you, spread open and panting, ready for me to come inside of you. Ready for me to make you even more filthy."

He knew Steve didn't mean it. He knew it was just the drug, but the words stung. "Then what are waiting for? Fuck me. Steve, come on, do it."

Steve laughed and pulled his hole open even further. "Does that hurt?"

"Yes!" He grit his teeth and panted. He wished the pain was a deterrent to his pleasure, but he was just as hard as ever, just as eager to rub up against the pillow. God, maybe he was a slut.

"Good." Steve pressed a kiss to the small of Howard's back, then pushed his tongue into Howard's hole and licked.

Howard cried out, eyes opening in surprise, rocking back as Steve fucked his tongue into him. He clenched the sheets and curled his toes as pleasure, sharp and hot, raced up his spine and through his limbs He wanted to get away from it, from Steve's wet tongue and bruising fingers and hot breath. He squirmed and whimpered, but there was nowhere for him to go. Steve's thumbs slid in as far as they could go and Steve's tongue played along the rim of his asshole before delving deeper too.

He moaned, he couldn't stop moaning—it felt so good, everything Steve did felt so good—and rubbed himself against the pillow. He didn't care if the guard heard him, he didn't care if the whole base heard him. He choked on a cry as Steve spat into his hole then sucked it back up, doing it again and again before tonguing him. He tried to hold back, he did, but it was too much. He jerked back onto Steve's tongue, shuddering and groaning as he came, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him until he was a sodden, trembling mess.

Steve gently withdrew his tongue and thumbs, giving Howard's hip a pat. Howard hoped that was it; he wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but Steve chuckled, cold and brittle. "My turn now, Howard."

"Yeah." He shivered and took a deep breath.

Steve pulled the pillow from underneath Howard's hips and tossed it next to his head. "You'll love this. You'll love everything I do."

He wanted to deny it, but he knew Steve was right: love made him a slave

Steve grabbed him by the hair and shoved him face first into the wet, filthy pillow. 

Howard struggled, but that just smeared the mess even more, and he was so tired. He was so fucking tired. When he stopped struggling, Steve murmured a 'good boy' and continued to hold him down. He waited, knowing what was going to happen next. After all, it was the reason he'd come. He felt Steve's cock nudge against his hole and he let out a sigh of relief. Almost done, he was almost done. 

Steve slammed into him. It hurt and he cried out, but he didn't struggle, didn’t tense. He was glad for the pillow; it muffled all the noises he made while Steve fucked him. All the pleased, pained noises that made his throat hurt to make.

It didn’t take long for Steve to reach his climax. Soon he was thrusting erratically, his moans ragged. Right before he came, he pulled out, rubbing himself off on Howard's ass, until he came. He leaned in, panting into Howard's ear, and said, "Filthy sluts don’t get my come. You have to earn it." 

Howard's eyes stung and he clenched his hands in the sheets. He wanted to punch Steve, he wanted to rip into him with words and fists, but he knew that would be dangerous. This Steve enjoyed hurting him, enjoyed humiliating him. He couldn't chance it. He nodded instead, feeling dirty and hollow.

Steve rolled him onto his back, tossing the pillow onto the floor. "It's okay, Howard. Everything's okay now." 

"Yeah," he croaked out. "Yeah, it is."

"Here." Steve took off his dog tags and slipped them around Howard's neck. "So everyone will know you're mine." He stretched out next to Howard and nuzzled what he could. "What do you say?"

"What?" The tags lay heavily on Howard's chest.

"Say thank you."

"Oh. Thank you, Steve." His lips trembled and he reminded himself that he volunteered for this. "I should go. Before the guard finds me."

"You'll be back tomorrow."

"Yeah," he replied, even though it wasn't a question. 

Steve smiled and kissed him tenderly.

He climbed out of bed and dressed quickly before Steve changed his mind. Then he slipped past the guard and hurried back to his room. He froze when he saw that both Peggy and Colonel Phillips were waiting for him, drinking his good scotch. His face grew hot, but he met their eyes.

Peggy handed him her drink and he drained it. "It didn't work," she said.

"No." He wanted to shower and change before having this conversation, but that didn't look like it was going to happen. "Not quite." He poured himself another drink.

"What do you mean?" Phillips asked.

"He's more malleable after… after he gets what he wants." Howard's hand shook; he held his glass in both hands.

"Not good enough," Peggy said, but Phillips looked thoughtful. "Sir—"

"I can handle it." Howard finished his drink. "Now that I know what it entails. I can handle it. I can handle him."

"Howard, no." Peggy looked horrified. Of course she did, if he were in her shoes, he'd be horrified.

"I can handle him. He's not violent unless he's thwarted." God, he needed another drink. "Just make sure no one else interferes with our… our…" Howard wasn't sure what to call it. "It can't hurt to try."

"Like hell it can't! Colonel Phillips, you can't let him do this!"

"You're sure you can handle him?" Phillips gave him a grim look.

"Yes." He had to try.

Phillips sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I want you to report to the infirmary once a week for a thorough exam. If the doctors find anything life threatening or physically damaging, Rogers is on his way back to the States, no arguments about it!"

"Agreed." Howard nodded for emphasis.

"You're both mad!" Peggy stared at them both in disbelief.

He didn't disagree. "If you both don't mind, all I want to do is take a shower and crawl into bed."

Phillips rose to his feet. "Come on, Carter, we have reports to go through."

She looked like she wanted to protest, but a moment later, her shoulders slumped and she followed Phillips out.

After they left, he climbed into the shower, scrubbing his skin until it was red and raw. Then he let the water wash over him until it ran cold.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At breakfast the next morning, Steve's men get a good look of what Howard has to deal with and are not happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So dark. So very, very dark. I'm not sure how long I'll be able to sustain the darkness. All the Commandos, Bucky, and Peggy are ready to revolt against Howard's treatment. 
> 
> Also, sorry this isn't longer, but this week has been hell and my brain just doesn't want to let me write. I need to get back into the habit of writing a bit every day. Anyway, maybe I will try banging out another chapter of Blot Out the Sun next.

Howard's dreams were full of shadows and a heavy feeling of dread. When he woke up the next morning, later than usual, his eyes felt gritty and hot with exhaustion. He wanted to stay in bed, the door to his room locked against the outside, but he knew that would only make matters worse. 

Instead, he climbed out of bed, dressed, and went in search of coffee. He'd hoped the mess would be empty; of course, he wasn't that lucky. Steve's men were sitting around of the tables, talking quietly. He grabbed a cup of coffee and would have left, but Dum Dum gestured him over and Bucky pulled up a seat for him. He sat down, tense, and sipped his coffee. 

"Phillips called us in this morning," Bucky said, stabbing at his eggs with a triangle of toast. "What the hell are you thinking, Howard?"

"I'm thinking that I just bought you fellas some time to find the damn cure." The coffee turned sour in his stomach. He grimaced and set the cup down on the table. 

"The Captain isn't himself." Falsworth sighed and leaned back in his chair. "You're playing a dangerous game."

"He won't hurt me." He said it with more conviction than he felt; they weren't fooled for a second. 

Bucky slapped his hand against the table. "He almost ra—"

"It doesn’t matter! You're soldiers. Do what you're told!" Howard took a deep breath, then said, softly, "Please. I can handle him. Just don't interfere."

"You're crazy." Bucky shook his head and stuffed the triangle of toast into Howard's mouth. "Eat."

Howard glared, but took a bite of the toast. He would have responded, but a moment later, everyone tensed and he knew Steve had come into the room. He stared at the table, the back of his neck prickling. He didn't look up until Steve shoved Dum Dum out of the way and stood over him. 

"You weren't in your room," Steve said, laying a hand on Howard's shoulder.

"He was hungry," Bucky replied and Howard bit back the urge to tell him to shut up. 

Steve's eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on Howard's shoulder. "Is that true, Howard? Are you hungry? Is that why Bucky fed you?"

A lump rose to his throat and he swallowed hard against it. "I… I wanted some coffee."

"You didn't answer my question." Steve's voice was deceptively soft. "Are you hungry?"

He shook his head.

"Then why did you eat from Bucky's hand?" Steve brushed his fingers against Howard's mouth.

"Steve—" Bucky started, then Howard kicked him under the table to quiet him.

"I don’t know." His palms were starting to sweat. He rubbed them against his trousers. 

"Open your mouth." Howard complied, but Steve only made a dissatisfied sound. "Wider. As wide you can." 

Howard did. He didn't look at the other men on the table; he dare not take his eyes off Steve.

"Good boy," Steve said, then shoved two fingers down Howard's throat.

Howard's eyes widened and he let out a shocked, choking sound. Steve shoved his fingers in deeper, until Howard's eyes watered and the gagging and choking grew worse.

"Steve, what the hell!" Bucky jumped to his feet; Howard waved him away.

"Breathe through your nose." Steve curled his fingers against the back of Howard's tongue. "Come on, you're fine. Just breathe through your nose."

He did his best, but every time he thought he had his gag reflex under control, Steve wiggled his fingers. Tears streamed down his face and snot ran out of his nose, and he'd never been so humiliated in all his life.

"Cap, come on. Let up, please," Jones said. "Bucky didn't mean anything by it. Why don't you pull up a chair and have breakfast with us."

Steve pulled his fingers out and rested them on Howard's bottom front teeth. "Do you want me to stop, Howard?"

"Only if you want to, Steve," he rasped out between gasping breaths, then brushed the tip of his tongue against Steve's fingertips.

"Are you hungry?" This time it sounded like a proper question.

He smiled. "I wouldn't mind it if you fed me." 

Steve's smile was genuine. "I'll be right back. Here, take my handkerchief, clean up."

"Thank you." He took the handkerchief and wiped up the tears and snot and drool. Steve headed to the front of the mess to get a tray of food.

"Jesus Christ, Howard," Bucky said. "If you think we're gonna let—"

"Shut up," he hissed under his breath. "Just shut the fuck up. You're not gonna *let* him do anything. This isn't your choice, it's mine. Just find the damn cure and leave us the hell alone. All of you. Don't interfere, I've got this under control." 

"You really don't, kid." Dum Dum glanced at Steve and shook his head.

"If you can't stomach it, then leave." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You all know he's a good man. You know this isn't his fault. Let me handle it my way. I promise if it gets to be too much, I'll let you know."

"This isn't right, Howard," Bucky growled softly.

"He'd die for any one of us." Howard crumpled the handkerchief into his fist. "I can do this for him. I want to do this for him." 

"I can't watch this. I won't." Bucky stormed out of the room.

"We'll find the antidote, Howard," Jones said, getting to his feet. Dernier followed suit. 

By the time Steve came back with breakfast, the others were gone. He frowned. "Where did they go?"

"They said they had some work to do." Howard shrugged and touched Steve's wrist. "Does it really matter?"

"No." Steve smiled, then reached over, hooked his finger underneath Howard's shirt collar and pulled out his dog tags so they hung outside of Howard's clothing. "That's better. Don't hide them. Everyone should know you belong to me." 

"Right," he said softly. "My mistake. It won't happen again."

Steve held out a piece of toast. Howard wasn't hungry, not even a little bit, but he took a bite anyway.


End file.
